Memory
by silentlyatnight
Summary: You can't always remember everything, can you? Well, Ron knows he can't, but he also knows that he remembers everything that matters after all, and that's his love for Hermione.


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 13. Write about your OTP forgetting something important. _  
_**

 **Chudley Cannons, Seeker.**

 **Word count: 1015  
**

 **Disclaimer: all the rights belong to J K Rowling.**

.ooOoo.

Ron Weasley looked at the shiny, golden circlet and felt over the moon. He couldn't wait to propose to Hermione.

He knew that since she was a child, she had been dreaming about living with her true love in a little cottage in the country, where one could see the sky, the clouds, the stars. And now, finally, her dreams—and his own—were about to become reality.

She had bought this wonderful cabin that stood by the shore of a river, they both had good workplaces and, most importantly, they were together. Sure, when Hermione had asked Ron to move with her, he had been dubious and reluctant to leave the Burrow but he would do anything for his Hermione, so he had agreed.

Now, he was walking as quickly as possible to cover the distance that still separated him from his girlfriend, foretasting her delight squealing at seeing the ring that would seal their fate. He had spent hours in that Jewelry Store and it had been one of the most difficult things he had ever done. The salesgirl had unnerved him—all flirtatious as she was—and the rings were way too many for him to take them all in at first.

He put his hand in his pocket to make sure that the precious circlet was still there. Touching it calmed him down a bit and made him ready to face Hermione. Taking a long breath, he entered, making his way to the kitchen, where he spotted his girlfriend near the stove, her gaze intense and focused.

"Hey, honey," she greeted. "Why are you so late?"

How on Earth had she been able to know it was him? She hadn't even looked at him yet.

"Hermione." He gently kissed her head and ignored her question. "What are you doing?"

"Cooking. Can't you say?"

"Err, yes. But why are you not making something simple, as usual?

"Simple? You mean I look in distress?"

"Of course not." Ron could tell she was nervous about something. Knowing that he was nervous too, he felt it was safer if he took a step behind and tried to be level-headed. "You're doing great, I'm sure." He didn't want to make her angry.

She glanced at him, sighing. "You forgot it."

"No. Or yes. It depends."

"I'm talking about our anniversary, which you seem so unaware of, of course."

"Oh! Err..." _Bloody hell_ , he thought, _I've been so busy with the ring that I have completely missed the day._ "Please, let me explain. I have been busy. I haven't forgotten _—"_

"For Merlin's sake, Ron," she interrupted him. "How is it that you're always so neglectful?" She dropped the cutlery and furiously stomped out of the kitchen. leaving Ron staring after her.

He picked up a spoon and looked at it, remembering all the times that Hermione had accused him to have the emotional range of a teaspoon. Deciding to correct her once for all, he put it in his pocket and followed Hermione who—he could tell from the muffled sobs—was crying on the couch. He cautiously approached it and was determined to start saying something _—anything_ _—_ that could help his Hermione feel better. He had never intended to hurt her... again. He wondered if he would ever learn from his past mistakes. Not that he actually repeated them over and over; he just managed to always find new ways to do wrong. He couldn't help but hiss a laugh at his creativity when another sob from the couch drew his attention for good.

"Herm _—_ "

She raised her face and looked at him with watery eyes. He cursed himself; he'd been trying so hard to make this evening special and to remember, yet he had only managed to forget.

"Where have you been, Ronald? You were supposed to be home two hours ago. I was worried. I know you're still not comfortable with your cell phone but you could have sent me a Patronus!"

"Right. I just had so many errands to run today." He really didn't want to propose while they were arguing; it felt a bad omen.

"Ronald Weasley!"

 _Does she really need to sound like my mum?_

"If you don't answer me—if I don't hear the truth from you lips right this second—I swear—I swear—" She stopped to think to a proper threat. "I swear I'm going to cast the _Cruciatus_ on you!" She drew her wand and aimed it at him.

"Alright, alright. But you're ruining everything. I was just buying some nice present for you."

"A nice present?" She glanced at him suspiciously but lowered her wand. "Are you sure?"

"Well, yes. At least, it's supposed to be nice." He gave her the little, black box, opening it.

"So... you were late because you bought me a ring."

"Yes, that's it. It seemed to take me ages, but here it is." His smile was bright, but he was blushing.

She hugged him. "Oh, I'm sorry I got so mad at you."

"And I am sorry—I really am—I forgot our anniversary. It's just that organizing this, buying the ring, trying to impress you—it's absorbed a lot of energy, you know. Am I forgiven?"

"Of course you are! And you don't need to impress me at all," she said, kissing him. Then, she gave him a calculating look. "I knew I was right."

"About what?"

"About you forgetting our anniversary."

"Oh, yes." He looked mortified. "But we are fine now, aren't we? Because there's still something I want to tell you." He took her hand and pressed a spoon in it, ignoring her confusion. "You let it drop in the kitchen. This would be my emotional range, according to you. Well, let's pretend it is. It's yours now. Will you marry me?"

.ooOOoo.

 **A/N I admit the idea of Ron using a teaspoon during his proposal to Hermione is not mine; I found it on the Net and thought it was adorable so I simply had to use it in this fic. :)**


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